


Goddamn Gorgeous

by Lady_S



Category: Supernatural, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: John POV, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, The Author Regrets Nothing, but its v vague, carl cas and judith are talked about, mostly just john pining, rated m for vague smut, this is also supposed to be twd characters in the spnverse but its not really important lol, yep its this crackship again
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 02:23:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15698184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_S/pseuds/Lady_S
Summary: Carl Grimes was beautiful.





	Goddamn Gorgeous

**Author's Note:**

> Summary on the original tumblr post:  
> "Another one-shot! Vaguely smutty this time, but mostly pining and angst. And a cameo by our favorite angel!"
> 
> This is another grimechester oneshot I'm bringing over from tumblr! I tried a little smut on this one, but as you can see, I can never go through with it. ^^' I hope you enjoy it anyway!
> 
> My SPN/TWD tumblr is @grimechestr, feel free to visit me there!
> 
> ALSO! I don't mention in this work, but for shipping fics, I always write Carl as at least 19.

Carl Grimes was beautiful.

 

Carl was long, silky, dark brown hair spilling down pale shoulders and falling mysteriously over his bandage. Carl was a sharp, icy, gray-blue eye that never seemed to realize just how expressive it could be on its own. Carl was sweet, soft, pink lips that parted innocently when he was giving something his entire focus. Carl was long strides, Carl was a silent narrowing of the eye, Carl was clothes just a bit too large for his lithe frame, Carl was thigh holsters and the guns in them…

 

Correction: Carl Grimes was goddamn  _ **gorgeous**_.

 

And the thing was, John was starting to think he was the only one who noticed it. 

 

Rick and Michonne were his parents, so it was natural they wouldn’t see Carl’s beauty the way he did. Neither would others, like Daryl, Glenn, Carol, or Maggie, who had known him since he was twelve, and probably couldn’t get the image of that baby-faced kid out of their minds. The only person who could come close is probably Carl’s former girlfriend, Enid, but it didn’t seem to John that they were completely amicable exes.

 

But seeing as he  _was_  the only one who viewed Carl in such a way..it made him feel a little guilty, honestly. Carl was a good man, but a young one, and though he, too, was a hunter, he had a lot more life left to live than John did. There was a chance for Carl, especially in Alexandria. Carl could make a family here, in the safety of the walls and the comfort of the townspeople, if he was willing to put the effort into it. John, as much as his soul pined for the brunette, was too damn old and worn to be making another family. _Maybe_  Sam and Dean could, but not him.

 

But that only made him feel a  _little_  guilty - the real guilt didn’t set in until he shifted his focus from what of Carl he  _could_  see to that he  _couldn’t_.

 

Carl’s average-sized clothes would inadvertently show off how thin he actually was, which was surprising for the amount of fighting and hunting skills he had obtained over the years; from what John had heard, Carl’s skin had two major scars, the eye socket and the bullet wound, but was otherwise smooth and untouched; even Carl’s hair, which moved like the richest of heavy fabric, had an unexplained elegance to it.

 

All of this led John’s mind to wander. On the loneliest of nights, John imagined what it must be like to hold such a slim little body against his own chest, feel Carl’s breath quicken as he reached a hand up under his shirt to caress his skin, and then bury his nose into the young man’s dark locks. John would whisper into Carl’s ear, and that skin would start to flush the same pretty pink of his lips. Maybe Carl would moan, or stutter out some syllables, or simply just attempt to keep from making any other embarrassing noises. But John would tell him to make all the noise he wants - it would just be between them.

 

John usually paused his fantasies at this point to question his own morality. Was this the beginning of his spiral into darkness? Would his deepest desires be to take advantage of Carl without making absolute sure that he consented? Did he secretly want to force Carl into submission for his own sadistic pleasure?

 

_You’re a disgusting old man,_  his conscience whispered,  _and probably a rapist to boot._

 

But, like the pervert he was beginning to suspect he was, John always continued.

 

John would make sure to take Carl to a bed where he could be comfortable. Then they would kiss, slow at first, but he would start to nip and bite until Carl’s lips had darkened to a sweet red. John would then put his mouth on Carl’s neck and kiss the pale skin to his heart’s content, scraping his teeth along the curve to make Carl shiver. Carl’s moaning would start to turn into words, as he’d beg John for more. More pressure, more teeth, more at this angle- yes,  _yes_! Like  _that._

 

John could keep this fantasy up until both the Carl of his dreams and himself had found the apex of their pleasure, but that was enough for the journal. The journal Carl gave him had become his own personal and permanent confession of his unrequited love for Carl Grimes, even from the moment his feelings began and he didn’t know it. He had hoped the it would help him as an appropriate channel for his longing as the first journal had been for his grief, but the jury was still out on whether or not either of them worked.

 

Pinching the bridge of his nose with and pressing his eyes closed, John opted against proof-reading this entry out of the guilt that was returning. Feeling that terrible swell in his chest, he tried to think of a closing.

 

_“I’m sorry, Carl. You deserve so much better than this-”_  he frowned, ran a line through the last word, and replaced it with _“me.”_

 

He closed the journal, and half-threw it on his nightstand before covering his face with his hands in shame. A shower sounded nice, but it wouldn’t solve anything.

 

* * *

 

 

The morning after next, Castiel appeared in Alexandria. He talked to John first, updating him on the basics of Sam and Dean’s whereabouts - they were okay, just lying low for now, and would call as soon as this most recent predicament passed. After that, John introduced him to Carl and Judith, the latter of whom wanted to play with the angel’s backwards tie.

 

Later on, as evening was falling, John made his way to his room to grab his journal and document Cas’ visit. He flipped to the last entry to start a new one when his eyes landed on the space below “me,” and his entire body froze.

 

Directly under his apology to Carl, written in blue ink and scribbled in print handwriting, were five words:

 

_I’d love to deserve you._


End file.
